Hello, world! This blog began on September 28, 2007, and so far nobody has come looking for me with tar and feathers.
On my honor, I will do my best not to bore you. All comments are welcome as long as your discourse is civil and your language is not blue.

Happy reading, and come back often!

Copyright 2007 - 2016 by Robert H. Brague

Monday, July 15, 2013

Putz is gone, Katherine de Chevalle is on hiatus, and I’m not feeling too well myself

Our old friend Putz is not really gone, as in gone gone, as far as I know, although he sometimes seems gone even when he is here, if you get my drift. I have every reason to believe he is still working as a school crossing guard and tooling around Tooele, Utah, not living on the planet Kolob as he would like us to think. But having posted only once in all of 2013 he appears to be gone from Blogworld, at least for the time being.

Speaking of the time being, Katherine de Chevalle down in New Zealand has also taken a little hiatus of indeterminate length -- she calls it a Bloggus Interruptus -- because, in her own words, “I have a lot of painting to do for my exhibition and am also working on getting my art website looking good and up-to-date.” As the head of the parole board said to H.I. “Hi” McDunnough (Nicholas Cage) in Raising Arizona at the end of every one of his parole hearings, “Well, okay then.”

Daphne over in Leeds, whose Dad was a Communist, hasn’t posted since May 19th, the day Mrs. RWP and I observed our 50th wedding anniversary. I miss Daphne’s wit and her love of swimming and her work in patient roleplay with medical students and her inclination to travel through Europe at the drop of a hat. Her mother, who lives next door to her, was beginning to have some health problems in her late eighties and I do hope all is well with both of them.

Ian, who also lives in Leeds, stayed in England last winter instead of spending his usual six months a year in Florida, and it seems to have dampened his enthusiasm for blogging. His photographs are always marvelous, but he has posted less and less often lately. It would be worth your while to take a little time and check out his few posts in 2013.

Our old friend Carolina in Nederland has posted only five times since the beginning of the year, and has said absolutely nothing since the middle of April. If I may say so, dat is niet goed.

Reamus hasn’t been heard from since the first day of Baseball’s spring training back in February, but he may be traveling around the country in his new La Coachasita, the old one having given up the ghost somewhere in South Dakota last summer. One never knows, but one will find out eventually.

Vonda out in Oregon seems to have given up her Little Egg Farm and gone to making souvenirs for the tourists to buy. As Ezio Pinza said or rather sang in “Some Enchanted Evening” in South Pacific, “Who can explain it? who can tell you why?” (The next line, as I recall, is “Fools give you reasons; wise men never try.” For the record, when I mentioned Ezio Pinza I was speaking of his role as Emile de Becque in the stage version of South Pacific. In the movie version, Rossano Brazzi never sang a note. His part was dubbed by the Metropolitan Opera star, Giorgio Tozzi. And even though Mitzi Gaynor did her own singing as Ensign Nellie Forbush in the film version, she was not Mary Martin. But I digress.)

Where was I? Oh, yes.

Dr. John Linna of Neenah, Wisconsin, a retired Lutheran minister, died on February 15, 2010. He had a town, Pigeon Falls, in his basement and told us many strange and wonderful things that happened there. Every Sunday he shared nuggets of wisdom with us from his own personal treasure-trove. I still like to go back there and read his posts, even though there are some typographical errors. Maybe you will too.

Doctor John was one of a kind. Come to think of it, they don’t make ’em like Buford Pickleberry any more either.

In summation, some people say “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” and other people say “Out of sight, out of mind.” I guess for every proverb there is an equal but opposite proverb. You will have to decide for yourself which is true, and ultimately land on one side of the fence or the other.

11 comments:

In blogging it seems very few of us have the resilience and imagination to keep on keeping on. Some fall by the wayside but others - like you and I - keep plodding on to the very end of the road. I am thinking I will have to revise my side bloglist. But for all the fallen - new blogging troops come to take their place > Carol in Cairns, David Oliver, Lettice Leaf etc..

Yes, I am missing some of them too and wondering if all is well in their lives. I must say I don't have as much to post about myself these days but as YP says new troops do come along and will, I guess, fill their shoes eventually

I'm sorry you're not feeling well, Mr. RWP. Health is an elusive thing at times. Please get well soon.It is ever so easy for the days to slip by and no doubt some of your blogger friends haven't slowed down enough to even realize how much time has passed. Maybe in a quieter time they'll be back....Well, off to cook for the family - after all, we're pouring concrete today........

Yorkshire Pudding, resilience and imagination are good, but continuing to put one foot in front of the other is even better.

Elizabeth and Hilltophomesteader, actually I'm in very good shape for the shape I'm in. I'm not ill; my title was meant to be faintly amusing. I do have PHN (post-herpetic neuralgia) which means that even though the bout with shingles is over, my nerve endings have yet to receive the news. PHN feels just like shingles to me, although perhaps not quite as severe most of the time.

Loren, it's so good to hear from you. I should visit your blog more often. My condolences on the death of your father.

Helsie, I hope all those new troops do us old troops proud. Standing on the shoulders of giants, as it were.

Gosh you had my heart in my mouth when I read that title! I thought Putz had died. He may well have done, that is possible, though I think his son or family would probably (hopefully) come on blogger to say so. The world of internet friends is such a fragile one....they can dissapear without a trace in a second and you never hear from them again. It makes me want to make the most out of people while they're here.

All (may I call you All?), I'm sorry for any alarm I may have caused with my title. When I first saw your comment in my e-mail awaiting approval, I thought you had commented on my "Et tu, Brute?" post and I wondered how you could have made a leap from that title to Putz. So even I make mistakes from time to ttime.

I certainly hope Putz is well. His wife Karmalee has never been online but their son Daniel is.

Oh that's ok, I'm easily spooked you know *smiles. You can call me....AC, All, or...Michelle, as that is my name, though I give it out rarely so as not to wear it out. Whichever you like the best or is easiest to write, I mind not.

When you wrote this, I probably hadn't posted for four or five days and Pudding for at least three, so why weren't we mentioned?

Something else that horrified me about this post was your statement that Putz doesn't really live on the planet Kobob. If I can't believe what Putz says, then who or what can I believe, and in what can I put my faith? No, don't answer that because I know what you would say.

My Other Blog Is A Rolls-Royce

About me

has lived on earth for 75 years and has been married for 53 of those years to Ellie, his wife. They have two sons, one daughter, the appropriate assortment of in-laws, and six absolutely magnificent grandchildren. He enjoys reading, playing the piano, driving in the country, sitting by the ocean, watching birds fly, gazing into a roaring fire, holding his wife's hand, and spending time with his grandchildren. He doesn't like doing yard work, walking a dog who definitely is not in the mood, or cleaning up after one who is (RIP Jethro, 2004-2013).

Me, circa 1943

A few months before this photograph was taken, I fell through a hole in a chain link fence in New York City and landed on my head on a school’s cement playground that was six feet below sidewalk level. I had a brain concussion. Some people think this helps explain why I am the way I am today. Other people insist nothing can explain why I am the way I am today.

Poem by a Yorkshire Lad

Song for Lost Youth

Perhaps I should have cradled it
Like a dove
Kept it safe with tender love
But I squandered it -
Gushing-blundering-raging
Like a wild mountain stream
Desperate for an ocean
That was but a distant dream.
...I just never thought
That I could have loitered in the shallows
Reflecting the blueness of the sky
- Concealing silver fishes
- Quietly biding my time
- Stretching it out.
And so, and so it's gone now
- My ephemeral youth
- That precious once only gift
- That honeyed sweetness,
Leaving only the trembling resonance
Of distant echoes
From half-remembered hills.

(Neil Theasby, 2013. Used by permission.)

Me, circa 2010 (with Mrs. RWP)

A reader in Oregon has requested a current photograph. For the thick of skull, I want to say that I am not exceedingly tall nor is Mrs. RWP exceedingly short. She is sitting in a chair; I am standing behind her and slightly to her right, your left. I am nothing if not thorough. Handsome and thorough. Exceedingly intelligent, very handsome, and thorough. I forgot humble.